Revisionist History
by Taramisu
Summary: Dawn learns a new history lesson from Spike. S/B. "Wrecked"


Revisionist History

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**AUTHOR: Taramisu**   
** WRITTEN: 12/18/01**   
** E-MAIL: taramisu@channelingboards.com**   
** SUMMARY: Dawn learns some naked truths.**   
** RATING: PG-13**   


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"Oh, Dru and I had such a feast." 

"You were there?" Dawn glared at him skeptically. 

"You think I would lie to you?" Upon her deeper glare, he responded, "…about this. Would I lie to you about this?" 

"You weren't even born by the 1700's!" 

"Didn't you get the soddin' memo? I was now sired in 1720 by Darla." 

Dawn became obviously angry at this until Spike smoothed things over. "Hey, platelet. It's not like He hasn't changed this stuff before. Just be glad it wasn't the Master this time. Just let it go and enjoy the rest of my story, okay?" 

She finally resigned. "Alright. But no embellishing. I'm having a hard enough time with this stuff as it is. I mean, why do I have to know what happened in the 1700's anyhow?"

"Supposedly so you don't repeat it. Bullocks! Here. Settle in and I'll tell you all about the American Revolution...the way it really happened." 

Dawn uncrossed her arms and leaned back onto the couch with an anticipatory grin on her teenage face. 

"The year was 1775. April 18. One lookout sat atop Ludington's mill, awaiting any sign that the Brits were approaching." Spike stopped and grinned just a bit. 

"What?" 

"Nothin', niblet. Just rememberin' good times is all." 

She gave him a sideways glance. 

"They say that the signal was given and Paul Revere took off on his little horsey to warn the Minute Men. Can you tell me how reasonable that sounds to you?" 

"That's not how it happened?" 

Spike let out a pshaww. "Not bloody likely. How could one man warn 13 colonies of the approaching Evil, and a bunch of civilians fight against the Great British Army…and win?" 

Suspiciously, Dawn motioned for him to continue. 

"Alright then. First off, there were a dozen or so guys all campin' out, waitin' for the signal. Of course, after Dru and I finished, there was only the one: Paula Revere. They…" 

"Wait a minute! Wait just one cotton picking minute, Spike. You killed the revolutionists?!" 

"Well, yeah." 

Her face softened. "Cool." 

"Um, no. Not 'cool'. Very bad. Very Evil. Bad Spike." 

They smiled at each other. 

"And what's this with 'Paula'? It was Paul, right?" 

He giggled. "No, platelet. It was Paul-A. She was just so cute in that outfit. I didn't have the heart to kill the poor wench. But her sister Hilary smelled so good, I couldn't resist." 

Off Dawn's glare: "Oh! I brought proof even." Spike reached into his leather duster and pulled out a piece of paper from the inner pocket. Dawn grabbed it excitedly. 

"This is SO fake!" 

"Would I lie to you?" 

"Probably." 

Spike gave her the Evil eye, then continued with his recount of history…er…herstory. 

"Anyhow, Paula Revere set out, devastated from losing her 11 cohorts, vowing to announce the Brits' presence to every last Minute Man. And she did it too. I knew there was something about that chit." Spike paused a bit as he remembered the scene quietly in his head. "Then, the British Army landed." 

"And…?" 

"Well, what do you think happened?" 

"The British lost because of their way of fighting…all in a line. They were easy to kill." Dawn spouted this off and finished with great pride for remembering what the teacher had said. 

"Bullocks." 

"What? You are so full of it, Spike. Maybe I should call Giles to have him help me. He's smart like that." She feigned reaching for the phone, and her vampire grabbed it out of her reach before she even knew what had happened. Her arms then automatically crossed over her chest. 

"I said, bullocks. Now, sit back, listen and learn." 

"Is this going to help me on my test?" 

"Definitely…not. Just listen." He cleared his throat. "So, there we were, Dru and me, watchin' these two groups attempting to kill each other when all of a sudden I realized that the Brits were much better fed than the colonists. Think about it li'l bit. Richer food, richer blood." She did and Spike licked his lips. "So, Dru and I evened the odds a bit….or a bit too much. We must have gone through 3 score or so Red Suits before we realized that they were retreating." He sighed. "Those were the good times." But in his reveling, he did not notice the blonde spit fire standing at the top of the stairs, her bedroom door open behind her. 

The vampire sniffed, then shook his head violently. "What is that terrible stench?" 

"Oh that? I think Buffy brought back Italian leftovers and left them in her room. It's stunk like that for days." 

Spike's eyes began to tear up just a bit. 

"Are you alright, Spike?" 

"Yeah. Why?" 

"You're crying. Did something happen between you and Buffy? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring her up, I just…" 

"No, pet. It's the garlic. The git has garlic strung up in her room." He shook his head slightly as a smile cropped up on his face…until he started scratching his face and hands. 

"W-why would she do that?" 

Spike looked gently at her. "Maybe she would like to tell you. Or maybe not." 

"Spike, just tell me!!" 

"She's afraid of me." 

"Afraid of you?" 

"Yeah. She's got it in her head that I'm bad for her. Go figure." 

Dawn smiled. "I'll talk to her for you." 

"No you don't. She has to figure this out for herself. In the meantime, I'm, as you Scoobies would say, study-guy. Now, what other history lessons can I revise for you? You got the Boxer Rebellion on your syllabus? I really enjoyed that one." 

"Were you in the Gulf War?" She sat up a little straighter, excited to learn about Spike's part in her own history. 

"Ruddy-hell! I would never travel to that area. Too many flying projectiles. One's libel to lose one's head…literally. 'Sides, I was havin' more fun in Paris at the time." They laughed together while Spike struggled to not scratch his skin off. 

Suddenly, a voice loomed from the top of the staircase. "I think that's enough poisoning my teenage sister's mind with violent stories. Stories that won't even help her pass her history class." She stood cross-armed, wearing the same clothes Dawn had last seen her in. They were wrinkly. Her previously gorgeous blonde hair lay in disarray, having not been combed in days. No make-up donned her face, save for the remnants of mascara which had long ago streaked down her cheeks. If possible, Spike thought, she looked thinner. Almost a shadow of herself. 

Dawn stood up frantically, running to the bottom of the stairs. "Buffy. What are you doing up there? You look like shit." 

"Language, li'l bit," Spike warned. Dawn looked at him briefly, acknowledging his statement, then turned back to Buffy. 

"You look as bad as Willow." At that, the room grew silent. Buffy looked at her stocking feet and Spike's worry wrinkled forehead smoothed out as he realized what Buffy had been thinking ever since Red had almost killed Dawn. She actually likened Willow's addiction to the Dark Magicks to her desire for him! How ridiculous could she get?! 

"Say something!" The little sister had lost her patience. 

"I-I." She hazarded a glance at the vampire, who was not standing there as she had expected, all puffed up with self-righteousness and male testosterone. Instead, his shoulders were slumped just a trace with worry plastered across his face. 

"I. I." 

Dawn stared at her intensely until Spike turned to go. "It's okay, Buffy. I'll go. When you come to your senses, you know where to find me." 

To his surprise, Buffy's mouth did not spew words like "and stay out" or "I don't want you here ever again". Instead, he heard a chorus of sisters. "No, don't go." 

Spike turned toward Buffy slowly, unable to believe his ears. Then, without taking his eyes off his disheveled beauty, he spoke to Dawn. "Can you leave us for a minute, pet?" 

But Buffy had other ideas. "No. Stay. You stay. If someone's around, I'm less likely to do something stupid." She descended the stairs, then took her sister's hands in hers and looked her square in the eye. 

"Dawny." 

Dawn had no idea what to think. "Buffy?" 

"Spike and I…I…you see…I…" Buffy closed her eyes, then took a deep breath before continuing. "I love Spike." 

Two minutes later, Buffy and Dawn had managed to pick Spike up off the floor and place him on the couch. 

Ten minutes later, Buffy was having a deep conversation with Spike, using Dawn as the anti-sex buffer. 

Three hours later, two sisters were removing garlic cloves from Buffy's ceiling and furniture. 

Ten minutes after that, the resident vampire stopped itching, but his eyes were still damp with tears. 

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References: 

The History Place: http://www.historyplace.com/unitedstates/revolution/ 

Virtual Marching Tour of the Revolutionary War: http://www.ushistory.org/march/ 

A Journey Toward Freedom: http://library.thinkquest.org/10966/ 

Hudson Valley Network: http://www.hvnet.com/TOUR/pu/hist/revolt.htm 

  


End 


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